• • •
The dinner conversation avoided every interesting topic. Sophie wanted to hear about David’s experiences, the real ones, and what had made him so jumpy, so attuned to his surroundings. She could only imagine. She’d never written to him about the movement, so she wasn’t surprised he didn’t bring it up, but she still wanted to tell him more about it, wanted his opinion on the subject, touchy as it might be.
Instead, their mothers steered the conversation as if they were navigating a ship through rocky waters. She didn’t blame them for trying to make his first meal at home a joyous one, though it did feel forced. Save the contentious issues for later, or let David raise them when he was ready. They asked him about plane travel, the places he’d gone, as if he were some jet-set playboy, rather than a soldier. They spoke about their jobs and the neighborhood. He let them guide the topics at hand, and Sophie stayed mostly silent.
After the meal, Julie went into the kitchen and returned with a round cake, the words welcome home! scrolled on the frosting in script, and david in block letters. How long had they known today was the day? They’d certainly managed to keep it from Sophie. She knew she’d asked them to, but she was surprised they’d been able to pull it off.
“So,” she asked finally, her mouth full of ice cream cake, “what are you doing next?” That had been the other question she was surprised nobody else was asking. She realized too late that there might be a reason. “I mean, if you want to talk about it.”
He maintained a steady rhythm of cake to mouth for another few bites, then turned to look at her. “I’m leaving the military.”
Sophie’s mouth dropped open, genuine shock she then papered over with a smile, in case the moms already knew and she’d been left out of the knowing; she would never have expected him to say that particular sentence in a million years. Both mothers exchanged a glance, so he must not have written about this decision. The surprise was on everyone this time.
“Leaving?” Hopefulness tried to bust through concern on Val’s face.
“Yeah, my commitment is over, and I could re-up, but the timing is right to make a jump to private-sector work.” He tipped his plate and let the last of the ice cream swirl from one side to the other. As a kid he would have licked it, but now he watched it run.
“Will that cause any problems with your military benefits?” Leave it to Julie to quiz him on a practical detail instead of celebrating the news.
“If nobody else is going to say it, I will,” Sophie said before David could answer their mother. “David, I have never been so relieved at anything in my whole life. I’m proud of what you’ve done for the country and all that, but I am ten thousand times happier to have my big brother back.”
David grinned at her, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Still, he looked relieved. “There’s a whole separation process. I already found a job, so there won’t be a gap in my benefits. And I’m not being discharged involuntarily, in case any of you were thinking that.”
“Why would we think that?” asked Julie.
David shrugged. “I don’t know. People get weird ideas into their heads. I wanted to make sure you know this is my choice.”
“I don’t care whose—” Val picked up the melting cake and left the room midsentence. Sophie heard the freezer open and shut, then Val returned. “I don’t care whose choice it was. I’m happy you made it out in one piece. That’s one worry off my worry list forever.”
“Now you just have to worry about car crashes and random shootings and killer viruses like the civilian families do.” Sophie thought it was funny, but the others gave her looks of various degrees of disgust. Everyone was a critic. She should know better than to bring up other things to worry about in any case, since those lists invariably included her.
“So, what’s the new job?” she asked in hopes of getting the conversation back on track.
David smiled and tapped the light above his ear. “It should be really interesting work. Balkenhol Neural Labs.”
Sophie was on her feet so quickly she knocked her plate to the floor. “Balkenhol? BNL? You’re not serious.” She clenched her hands into fists, then dropped them to her sides. He had to be joking.
The smile had vanished from David’s face, replaced by confusion. “It’s a good job. Pilot ambassador. It pays well. I’ll get to travel to interesting places without people shooting at me.”
“Somebody please tell me he’s joking.” Sophie wiped a tear from her cheek and fought the others back. She would not cry. She was a soldier. She turned on her heel and headed straight for the front door.
Once outside, she realized she’d probably been rash to leave with no ID, no cash, no phone, no backpack. She couldn’t go downtown. Still, she had to go somewhere, now that she’d left.
She walked to her old primary school’s playground, five blocks away. She crossed the shredded rubber and chose a swing. The evening was cooler than the previous ones had been, and only a couple of people were out walking their dogs, their blue Pilot lights bobbing and blinking like fireflies as they navigated the darkness. One light got closer. He stepped under the streetlamp, and she saw it was David.
“Can we talk?”
“It’s a free country. You’re welcome to talk.”
Sophie pushed off with her legs and started to swing. She pumped hard, aiming for the sky, full of billions of twinkling Pilots. After a minute, she noticed David was beside her and swinging too, catching her, passing her. She tried to gain a few inches, pulled even, but then he managed a big swing that took him nearly vertical. She stopped trying and slowed until she was again scuffing the ground with her
